I Know
by sherlollymouse
Summary: Sherlock can't say anything about himself that would ever surprise Molly because she knows him better than he may know himself. Rated T because they take off their clothing, but theres nothing pornographic in this piece, really.


Molly sat on the sofa in the Baker Street flat, stone faced. She wasn't a crier, but a single tear burnt her eye.

"Sorry," she exhaled as Sherlock sat down next to her. "Just a little overwhelmed." The tear was quickly wiped away and there were no more, though his soft smile and concerned eyes showed no judgement. Honestly, if she had needed to cry more and he was in any way critical, she would have told him off. It was just them now in the flat. Since Moriarty's message that morning, they hadn't been alone. Plans were being made, investigating was being done. Tensions were high and everyone's blood pressure was, , now, in the still of the evening, they sat on his sofa in the silent flat, alone. The only noise was the soft purr of Toby on one of Sherlocks chairs by the fireplace, Molly wasn't sure which one he'd picked and couldn't see him from this angle.

"I'm sorry, Molly Hooper." It occurred to her how comforting he was trying to be, their thighs were touching and he was whispering.

"For what?" She smiled up at him.

"For dragging you into this whole sorted mess." He sighed. "You don't deserve this; you deserve better."

"I'm not stupid, you know." A small amount of surprise flashed across his face. "I knew what I was doing when I offered to help you. I knew it was probably dangerous in some way, especially to you so…" If he were any other man, she would have noticed earlier, but, if it had been any other man, the realization wouldn't have been nearly as intense. Their eyes were locked. In this moment, there was nothing else in this world but them and they were lost in it, fumbling around in their own heads, not knowing what to do next.

"I would make a rubbish boyfriend." He broke the silence.

"What?" The word was barely out of her mouth before his lips were on hers, it was brief, but very clear.

"I said, I would make a rubbish boyfriend." This time, the declaration merely ended in a peck.

"I know." His lips were still damp as they smacked together again.

"I'm an addict,"

"I know." She realized she could taste coffee and cigarettes this time.

"I'm an asshole."

"I know." Another moist smacking sound filled the room.

"I'm obnoxious."

"I know." This was becoming a ritual.

"I'd be an utter embarrassment to introduce to your other friends and family."

"You'd be surprised." He stopped and hummed his question. "I said you'd be surprised. I really don't get on with my mom." "Oh,… well, I—uh…"

"Drug your friends."

"Yes." Another kiss, this one from Molly.

"Emotionally manipulate people."

"Yes." A kiss.

"I meant what I said in my speech,too."

"What?"

"About how I felt about weddings and love."

"I know, but you helped plan that wedding and confessed your love for John in your next breath." Sherlock inhaled, leaning in to express more affection to her, but he paused.

"I did." Searching her eyes, he fell back onto the couch, slowly.

"You can't rationalize love, so you're not always certain how to handle it." Leaning back, he was done processing, and gave her the kiss he'd withheld a moment ago.

"I'm a terrible person." He moved on to her neck.

"I know you think so."

"No, I mean it." Sherlock stopped so she could grasp how serious he was as he met her eyes again. "I'm a bad man."

"I know you believe that." He furrowed his brows.

"And thats ok?"

"No, but good wasn't working for me."

"I'm dangerous." This was becoming an argument of sorts.

"I know you can be." As their mouths clashed together, she laid him onto his back and unbuttoned his shirt.

"I've had to save John from a Chinese gang, he's had a bomb strapped to his chest and the night after I came back, I pulled him out of a bon fire."

"I dated a consultant criminal."

"Exactly… he was trying to get to me." She was working her way down his body and there was a long pause until she unzipped his trousers and began folding them down. "I killed a man." Molly looked up at him from his hip as she placed her lips against the bone, his head was held up by the arm of the sofa and a pillow and there was more silence flooding the room. As gently as she could, she slid up his body and straddled him. Leaning in close, her lips right by his ear, she whispered simply

"I know." before kissing him soundly. In response, he ran his hand up under her tee shirt and began to pull it off over her head and she quickly got up to pull off her own trousers before returning to her position.

"Molly, we shouldn't —"

"Do you want to stop?"

"No." He replied, honestly and without hesitation. "But, I'm not sure we should—" She hushed him.

"I know."


End file.
